Came For The Buns, Stayed For The Buns
by realtrashwriting
Summary: No Magic AU Adrien has always wanted to check out the goods in the locally popular TS Bakery, but more than one set of buns within catch his eye.


**To fill the void between seasons, I have made this piece of work. Please enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous Ladybug.**

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 **No Magic AU**

 **Came For The Buns, Stayed For The Buns**

Her bakery was a quaint thing across the street from a fairly populated college. Students, day after day, would visit the bakery in their spare time, picking treats for lunch or just something to bring home. Whenever he drove by, it seemed that the shop was packed with people eager for something good to eat. Adrien, himself, had been itching to go into the bakery for a plethora of reasons. The architecture was classically french from the swirling gold script on its windows to the pleated rooftops. The allure of anything both popular _and_ consumable made Adrien curious. But the smell that wafted through the door each time a customer arrived or exited was near heavenly, and coaxed even the strictest models to break their diets and splurge on a muffin or two.

Luckily, Adrien was not a strict model, so when the first opportunity presented itself, he snuck out from an afternoon photo shoot in an attempt to catch both a glimpse and a taste of the delicious things in the _TS Bakery_.

The first time he tried to sneak out, the sky had been a pale gray and thick with December snow. As he walked up to the bakery, he noticed someone standing by the front, perhaps trying to lock the door, perhaps not. The figure paused and looked both ways. When they glanced his way, the person seemed to fumble for something in their hands and shot into the store. Pleased that the store was open and unsure what the person could have been hiding from, Adrien continued to walk, admiring the building. The warm bakery air wafted out in a rush as the door swung open. The thick scent of bread filled his nose and he raced forward, his dream of eating something other than low-calorie fish and fruit smoothies closer than ever before. He had been inches from entering; his gloved hand just started to wrap around the door's handle when he heard snow crunching under tires behind him. He hazarded a glance and upon finding his attendant, let out a mournful sigh and got into the car with every secret intention of returning to the bakery.

Adrien was more careful the next time. Two weeks after the first attempt, he slipped out of his house and shot straight towards the bakery. He didn't stop running until he was engulfed in the warmth of the building and buttery aroma that was Tom and Sabine's Bakery. Heaving in air, Adrien leaned against a display case full of cakes while people in line snuck glances at him and muffled their laughter.

"Oh dear," he heard someone say over the sound of his breath in his ears. "Sweetie, can you get our customer some water?"

"Yes, Mom," came the response. His mouth had curved up into an involuntary smile at the knowledge that he had successfully evaded the entourage that his father had assigned to him. Adrien's heart beat furiously in his chest, adrenaline and lack of oxygen leaving him a little light headed. Staying model-fit with treadmill training clearly was not the same as running through the weaving Parisian streets, but if exercising more allowed him to visit this exquisite bakery then he would do all he could.

The moment a clear, glass cup appeared in front of his face, Adrien took it. "Thanks," he got out breathlessly. He straightened up and downed the precious water in the cup as fast as he could. Letting out a relieved sigh, Adrien balanced the cup on the display case and returned to leaning against it, eyes shut tight to avoid the dizziness he was feeling. Without a word, he could hear the clattering of the cup against curving glass as it was taken from him.

After a few hazy breaths, Adrien regained his balance and opened his eyes to take in the interior that he had longed to see. The tiles, a kaleidoscope of colours, were fair and pleasing to look at. Where a pyramid of cookies had no doubt once stood was now a chocolate scented mound. The croissants hooked by the far right window dwindled into single digits. The cakes that sat in the case to his left were a gorgeous mix of fantasy and fruit. Some seemed pure chocolate whereas others were combined with a variety of toppings that gave it colour and style. Each one was designed to be, it seemed, both beautiful and filling.

And the buns?

Even though they might not have been the 'just-out-of-the-oven' type, they still looked delicious. He internally drooled at the thought of one of the famous buns he'd heard about from Nino.

By the time he had completely regained his composure, the people in the line had drifted away and left him and the middle-aged cashier alone.

"You look quite exhausted," the woman laughed, "although I can always imagine why. Young people like yourself are always in such a flurry."

"Sort of." A few strides, and he was standing in front of the cash register.

The woman smiled at him kindly. "And you are?"

"Oh! I'm Adrien. Nice to meet you." He stuck out a hand for her to shake, which she did.

"I haven't seen you come in before."

"I've always wanted to," he admitted, "but I just never got the chance until now, Miss...?"

"Sabine."

His grin broadened, "Ms. Sabine. This must be your bakery then."

"One of the best in Paris," she said sweetly. "Feel free to take your time to peruse our selection and decide on what you'd like." The woman was undoing the straps of her apron and Adrien half-panicked.

"Are you leaving?"

"I'm going on my lunch break," she said, not laughing at his misinterpretation and forgiving his flush of embarrassment with an easy smile. "I normally take it once the lunch rush is over, but my daughter will be out in a moment to ring you up when you're finished."

"Thank you."

Sabine bowed her head a little bit in farewell. "It was nice to meet you, Adrien. I hope you enjoy the shop."

Adrien glanced at his cell phone. _12:17_. He still had a little time before Natalie was scheduled to come up and check on him. The only problem was that the bakery had such a wide assortment of bread and pastries that it was far too difficult to choose.

Except for the buns, he reminded himself as he moved closer to the display of food before him. If anything, he had to get the buns and get home before Gorilla got suspicious. Adrien took a pair of tongs leaning against the tray and poked at the smooth curve of the bun. The brown glow of it looked so appealing. It would taste amazing once he was safely in his room, no doubt.

A new voice startled Adrien out of his flour-filled anticipation and the woman at the cash register was now a young girl with pigtails and a shy smile. "C-can I help you?"

"I was just looking to pick up some buns," he said quickly, "but I wasn't quite sure how to choose them."

She nodded, leaned over the counter and pressed a glass of cool water into his hand. "For you." He stared at the drink dumbly. "You were exhausted when you raced in earlier. You should replenish what you lost." Then, as a scrambled after thought, "Not that I'm saying that you were really sweaty, but, I mean, I noticed you were tired. Just- here. It's for you."

"You gave me a cup of this earlier," he realized aloud, and when she nodded, pink dusting her cheeks, he smiled. "Thank you. It was a great help."

"Well, I can help you more." She straightened up and walked around the counter towards him. The name "Marinette" gleamed on her name tag. "If you're looking for buns, we have some here. They were made fresh this morning." She opened up a paper bag from nearby with a practiced flourish. Under the guise of drinking water (which slid so well down his throat) Adrien gave her a once over. Without a doubt, the girl was cute. Her pigtails gave off an air of childish innocence. She wasn't tall, but still seemed to hold her own with quiet confidence. Although she had seemed intent on avoiding his eyes, he had noticed that hers were like bluebells: bright and inviting. Her black jacket seemed dusted lightly in white flour, but the pale apron that hung around her waist protected her pink pants.

And though Adrien had never really taken to staring, even he knew a cute butt when he saw one and Marinette _definitely_ had a cute butt.

He tried not to stare too much, and he thanked his experience as a model that he'd built up enough self-control to avoid making a fool out of himself.

"Anything else?" He jerked his head up, an apology on his lips only to be exchanged for an internal sigh of relief with the knowledge that she hadn't noticed his staring.

"What would you recommend?"

"Um, it really depends on what tastes you prefer."

"Doesn't matter," he said, growing more comfortable with her by the second. The need to impress coupled with the knowledge that she seemed like a sweet girl _with_ a cute butt had compounded itself into something much bigger than he had anticipated. He downed the rest of the water in thick gulps. "Taste is the _yeast_ of my problems."

Her tongs froze over the buns.

"Did you just-"

"I did."

She turned her head fractionally, and the niggling bit of fear in Adrien's brain made itself known. Would she hate it? He knew people who _hated_ puns about their profession. And she was quite cute. He didn't want to put her off. But when she rolled her eyes, he was relieved to hear a playful, "That was horrible," dance off her lips.

"What do you mean? It was a classic."

"Classically horrible," Marinette groaned as she turned back to the pastries. "I _am_ the baker's daughter. I hear that joke all the time."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously." She dropped another couple buns in and rolled down the top of the bag. Her shoulders were loose and her smile was genuine. "My father tells me a bread pun at least once a day."

"He's got great taste in jokes," Adrien said. Marinette placed the bag on the counter and moved to get a fresh box. Once opened, she filled the thin container with macaroons from a separate display case. "Those are good?"

"These are _great_ ," Marinette said proudly as she set the thin box next to his bun bag. "Would you like anything else?"

"Uh," Adrien scrambled for something else to buy; anything to keep her here. "Chocolate cookies maybe? My best friend is big on them. I'm sure he and his girlfriend breathe chocolate most days and he's recommended your bakery as a great place to get them."

"That's impressive," she said, bagging a few for him. "Is he a frequent customer?"

"Yeah. What's your favourite thing here? Perhaps the angel cake because you and that pastry are quite angelic?"

"Stop it." She swatted him away but the grin she was sporting told him he was making progress.

"No can do. Puns are in my blood." Adrien felt himself grin widely, her mild encouragement doing his ego plenty. "What are you doing after this?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "After work or after I finish ringing you up?"

"Work."

"I actually have a history report to do for class. It's due in a couple days. And you?"

"I have work as well, but to be honest I'd rather be _loafing_ around."

"If you don't stop, you're not getting anything."

"Your wish is my command." He mock bowed to her and Marinette made a show of ignoring him. "You know, as the customer, I'm pretty sure that I'm always right."

"You sure have a lot of confidence. You must sweep your girlfriend off her feet."

"I don't have a girlfriend."

Marinette folded the cookie bag shut and smirked at him. She wagged it in front of him playfully. "So you'll be eating all of these alone? You have a big appetite."

"Nah," said Adrien, although he was sure that he ate quite a bit for someone his age. "Just a bit of a sweet tooth. What you picked out is perfect for me. Too perfect, in fact. It's as if you've known me my whole life"

"You make it sound like we're soul mates," she said as she went back to the register to ring him up.

"What can I say? Perhaps we are."

"Well, what _you_ are, is ridiculous," said Marinette. "After all, we've just met."

"Who knows?" Adrien leaned on the counter, courage building with each interaction. There was something very familiar and comforting about Marinette. He didn't quite know why that was but he was determined to find out. If not now, then soon. "Perhaps, we knew each other in another life. Perhaps we've even seen each other before."

A suspicious flush crawled up her face but he assumed that it was mostly due to the insane heat coming from the ovens in the back of the bakery. "Not likely."

Idly, Adrien looked around the bakery, admired everything anew, and slowly prepared to pay for the food in cash. His father or Natalie wouldn't be able to track him that way. As if merely thinking of them had summoned them, there was suddenly a faint humming coming from his pocket. When Adrien pulled his cell from his pocket, he stifled a cry of surprise as Natalie's stern face lit up.

"Is something wrong?" Adrien showed her the screen. "She looks...nice?" Marinette supplied although they both knew she hadn't meant it.

"She's my attendant," he clarified with a sigh, "and as much as I'd love to stay, I must go back. My day job awaits."

He paid her reluctantly and the change jangled into his hand. As she gave him the bags, he was sure to tuck one hand underneath and left the other to take the top from her. His palm brushed against her warm hand and Adrien tried not to blush.

"Thank you." She waved to him, her smile a mix of pleasure and regret. "Have a great day at work."

"You too!" he said, dipping out the door and missing the priceless reaction that crossed Marinette's face as he dropped what he believed to be his smoothest line of the day: "I hope our paths will _croissant_ again."

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 **This was fun to write and I love how cute they are. They literally give me life.**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**


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